


Whore

by Osca



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Death, M/M, Prostitution, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:54:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23883337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Osca/pseuds/Osca
Summary: Jules wanted to throw up because of this nasty sweet smell in this brothel. Everything was here like in cheap porn films, but also here was Charles Leclerc.
Relationships: Jules Bianchi/Charles Leclerc
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Whore

Jules wanted to throw up because of this nasty sweet smell in this brothel. Everything was here like in cheap porn films: red wallpapers, soft lightning, stoned boys and girls and chemical caramel aroma. Until this moment he thought that such gaudy whorehouses hadn't existed for a long time. Jules made himself get past these teenagers and not look into their eyes, which were blanketed with narcotic veil. He went out into the long corridor with a lot of doors. Some of them were opened, but Jules surely went to the farthest. It was white, so bright in this madness that it blinded eyes.

"Did you show up alone? To do this, you must be either incredibly bold or a complete idiot. Can you choose?" Bianchi didn't even get a chance to knock, when owner of this place faced him on the door sill.

"Who should I be afraid of? Should your whore, who thinks only about another dose, scare me? Too many questions, Maurizio," said Jules and went into the office. He sat in one of the two armchairs that stranded in front of the table. "Shut the door and your mouth."

"You want to talk about something or choose a girl for one night?" Arrivabene straightened his cufflink and take out two glasses and a bottle of hard alcohol, keeping snide smirk on his face. "Oh, sorry, I forgot that you like boys. I have some and can give you a discount."

"Shut the fuck up. You know perfectly well why I came."

Jules clenched his jaw so hard that teeth were about to crack. Everything inside him was burning with rage, resentment and even fear. Oh, yes, he was afraid. At least, Maurizio was right, you should be a psycho to go here alone. But he was here now and tried to pretend to be serious but understood perfectly that looked not very convincing.

"Your guys attacked mine, stole revenue for all day and goods. In addition to this they were beat to a bloody pulp. One of them in coma now and his mother raises money for funeral. You can't do that, Arrivabene, it was my land. You have no right to come to me."

Jules frowned remembering their mutilated bodies, bloody toothless mouths and long unbearable begging for death. He saw a lot of things in his lifetime, broke many bones and fell in with bad companies, but never dealt with something like this. Frankly, he didn’t even want to, hoped that he wouldn’t have to prove something to big bosses. But after that he had no chances of a quiet life.

In response to this Maurizio just chuckled quietly and pulled out a glass to Jules, looked at him and waited any reaction. But Jules was seemingly cool, drank his whiskey in one gulp without flinching, just said that drink was trash and leaned on the back of seat. They both knew that Jules was right, and if his words meant something Maurizio would have to apologize multiple times. But it was another kettle of fish.

"There is nothing of yours, including the land. You are a little brat wet behind the ears, but trying to play games meant for adults. If I want, I'll come to your house and fuck your mommy and sister. And you’ll only look and don't dare to yup. Do you know why?" Jules clenched his fists, if it were up to him, he would turn his happy face into a mush. "Because if you open your mouth, I will blow their brains out. Would you like that?"

"You won't," Bianchi looked from beneath his brows, his breathing was heavy, he felt his heart beating a little too fast and a vein pulsating on his forehead. "You are a bastard, but don't you dare, Maurizio."

"You hit the nail on the head, Jules. I heard that you are a very nice guy and good in your business. But there is something more interesting. There are rumors about your crack, like it's so good that trip after this is like walking in paradise. I don't know where you find it, but I will be happy to buy some from you. At a reduced price of course. How do you like it?"

"What's in it for me?"

"If your bar burns to the ground, then there will be nothing to cover up the casino. I hope you realize what I'm getting at," Jules looked at him seriously and only gave the barest nod of agreement. It wasn't a great deal but much better than were his expectations. There weren't any reasons to turn up his nose, so they shook on it and drank some more whiskey.

Arrivabene jumped in his seat like he forgot something important. He leaned out into the corridor and called for some guy. He talked with him so quickly and quietly that Jules understood only fragments. It was pretty stressful, but he thought that they couldn’t kill him when the problem was already solved. Although only God knows what this old fox had in mind. Another boy came into the office in the few minutes. He looked no more than sixteen years old, and Jules got sick when looked at him.

"This is Charles Leclerc. I hope you accept him as an apology for your guys," explained Maurizio, but Jules barely listened to him, his words heard like through the water. 

He looked really pathetic. Charles was skinny, messy and dressed in ridiculous ripped jeans and stretched grey t-shirt. It was so large for him that rolled down on one shoulder and Jules could see sharply protruding collarbones. His scrawny arms were bruised, some of which were caused by needles and others by someone else’s fingers. They weren't too close to each other but Bianchi could see his dilated pupils and unfocused eyes. Charles probably didn’t understand what was going on. He dragged his feet and was looking around the cabinet with his stunned gaze. How often has he been here?

"Well, it seems like you don't care about the comfort of your workers," Charles jumped back when Jules came closer, but he returned almost immediately. He was looking at the floor, and it was noticeable how his lips were quivering. "You don't throw around your whores usually. What changed this time?"

"You can consider it a goodwill gesture. Nothing more," Maurizio knew exactly that his guest wouldn't refuse this gift. Not because he wanted so much to get this teenager, but because it is not usual to refuse gifts. Especially from him. "But if you want, you can choose another."  
Jules didn't want to stay in this filthy place anymore, so he agreed to everything. He said goodbye to Maurizio and shook his hand once again, after this he immediately left the office. Bianchi held his breath in order not to feel this nasty sweet smell that was probably sunk into a suit, shirt and even skin. Charles were following him, his bare feet slapped loudly across the cold floor. He was lucky that the car was parked near the entrance; otherwise he would have to go barefoot on the wet asphalt. 

It was freshly cold after the rain, and firstly Jules passed Charles into the car. The driver turned around in surprise, and Jules couldn't restrain his smile. It was interesting to guess by what he was surprised more – an unexpected addition to the family or Jules' returning. Anyway it was impossible to know, because Arthur lost his tongue in jail few years ago. That's why it was quite boring to ride with him, but it was the lesser evil. Moreover, now he has a new person to talk to. Charles looked so sickly that any job could break him. 

"Let's go home; I have some good news for Max and others. I think they will like it."

Less than five minutes later, Jules was distracted from his thoughts due to the fact that someone stroked his hips very strongly. Charles groped him presumptuously with his child's hands, reached for a belt and even began to unzip it. He took advantage of the fact that Jules was discouraged and couldn't even move. Bianchi looked at Charles frowning, and didn't push him away promptly. He just thanked God for the fact that Charles didn't have time to get his palms into his trousers.

"Look, you don’t have to behave like that anymore. You mustn't look down at one’s zipper. You’re no longer in a brothel, so forget about it, ok?" Leclerc just nodded and Jules saw how something had changed in his beautiful eyes. 

He didn't notice how Charles brushed suddenly tears from his cheeks. But he saw his fragile shoulders and gawky knees are shaking. The first thing they do at home would be calling a tailor and a hairdresser. And he should ask chef to cook more food, because if they don't start to fatten Charles right now, he might faint.

"Thank you," Jules heard the Charles' voice for the first time, and it seemed so clear and lovely, he couldn't hide the smile. He gripped tightly with his big hand Charles' little cold one.


End file.
